


Mexico

by RumbleFish14



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Boys In Love, Caring John, Domestic Fluff, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional, Family Feels, Happy, M/M, Mexico, Mild Smut, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24246346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RumbleFish14/pseuds/RumbleFish14
Summary: Safe and in Mexico, Ian can't stop dreaming of Yev
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 14
Kudos: 53





	Mexico

Mexico  
(Oneshot)

It felt real. From the air around them, to the sweet smile on Mickey's face, to the little baby in his arms, it was all real.

It calmed something in him in a way that nothing in over 26 years had. Just the sight of Mickey holding his baby, their baby, made him feel complete. Whole. Loved. Mickey and Yev were his family. 

The dream started the same; with him and Mickey in bed together, moving on their sides, locked at the groin. Ian could recall the feeling of being inside him like that, how intimate it was, how good it felt as their hands linked and they found their orgasm slowly, together. 

Then a passionate kiss, sealing their love without a single word. Mickey would fall asleep with a blissful sigh, as he rolled out of the bed, walking through the house naked for some reason. Towards the living room, towards that blinding light. 

Then he saw it; their future. Mickey and Yev waiting for him, dressed in white, smiling. The Milkovich house was clean, no clutter or trash, no guns or Terry or Svetlana. Just his boys waiting for him.

Each time, Ian could feel the tears just below the surface, waiting until Yev grabbed one of his fingers and when Mickey asked for a kiss with nothing more than a smile. The tears were an overwhelming side effect of his happiness. 

Ian knew he was dreaming, he knew it wasn't real and he knew that in a matter of seconds, it would be ripped away from him. Making his happiness vanish, leaving him alone and cold, sad. With no baby. And yet, each time he chased it like he would die without it. 

Even when he knew it would hurt so much more than simply waking up and letting it fade away. 

"Ian, wake up."

Ian followed the sound of Mickey's voice. Like a light, the only thing capable of pulling him out of that dream, turned nightmare. His own version of hell and Mickey was the angel who saved him from all that grief.

With a heart wrenching gasp, Ian jolted awake. Sitting up as he desperately tried to catch his breath. As the tears fell and the sweat clung to his body, Mickey softly rubbed up and down his back. Soothing him, bringing him back to himself. 

"Shit." Ian's voice quivered. 

They weren't back in Chicago, trapped in an endless loop at Terry's house. They didn't live in fear, in hiding. They were in their one bedroom, very small, very cheap cabana in Mexico. They were in bed, the sheets pulled over their naked bodies as the window let in the calming sounds and smells of the ocean. They were home.

Mickey turned on the bed, leaning against Ian's side, his chin propped on one damp shoulder. "You with me?"

Swallowing his whimper, Ian grabbed Mickey's hand and put it to his chest, breathing heavily. "Yeah, I'm here. Sorry."

"Same dream again?" Mickey asked, moving closer. "About Yev?"

Another tear fell on its own, landing on his cheek. Ian left it. Mickey left it. Ian didn't care about the tears, just the painful thump of his heart and trying to calm down enough to talk about it.

"I haven't had it in a long time. I thought it stopped." Ian explained, closing his eyes to try and push it from his mind. "It felt so real. Like I was walking around, feeling it."

Mickey kissed Ian's shoulder. "I thought it stopped too. I could hear you crying."

"Fuck, I'm sorry." Ian turned, bringing them face to face as he cupped Mickey's, smoothing back damp hair. "I can sleep on the couch so it doesn't happen again."

"Yeah, fuck that." Mickey squeezed Ian's waist. "You're stayin right here. Dreams don't scare me."

It had been four years since Mickey escaped prison and found him. Four years since they ran away to Mexico with no more than a couple thousand dollars from his bank account. 

It had been longer than that since Yev left them. When Svetlana fucked them all over and ran away with some rich guy, with Yev's "new dad." Leaving Mickey in prison, leaving Ian no way to contact them. 

Their lives had been a mess but Yev's absence didn't go unnoticed. Ian thought about him every single day since the day he was taken. He tried his best to make it right, but he was alone and had no idea what to do. 

Now it was leaking into their lives. Making it harder for them. It was a constant reminder that they failed as parents, as a family, as dads. Maybe if they tried harder, or spent more time with him instead of chasing each other, or going off the deep end medical wise, or criminally.

Ian didn't know how to fix it. 

"I miss him." A sob worked its way out, even when Ian bit his lips to keep it in. Then came the sharp pain in his heart, taking his breath away. "I miss him so fucking much."

Mickey put his face into Ian's neck, wrapping both arms around him as those emotions slammed into him. "I miss him too."

Ian held Mickey just as tight as he was being held, until his body remained intact instead of breaking into a million pieces. They kept each other together because they are all each other had. 

When the tears had slowed and Ian was no longer pouring his heart out into Mickey's shoulder, he pulled back, wiping his tears away. "I wanted to stay there. I wanted to live in that dream. With him and you. We were happy."

Mickey wiped Ian's face. "I wish I could see it too."

As good as the dream was, Mickey couldn't see it because it wasn't his to see. He wasn't able to feel the absolute happiness being there. Being together. It was unfair in so many ways, but at least Mickey didn't feel the heartache when it slipped away. 

"Maybe you can draw it." Ian suggested quietly. "I can tell you everything and you can see it too."

Around the room were drawings, proof of Mickey's talent. Sketches of them, of Yev how they remembered him, then how he might look now. Some of his family, then Mandy. Ian knew if he told Mickey about his dream in detail, then he could bring it to life.

Mickey smiled. "We can try."

Ian's first smile appeared, simply because of Mickey's. "I want to, I want you to be there."

The air around them changed. Not by much, but the crying had stopped, talking it over helped and knowing that they'd be able to recreate the happiest moment in his life gave him hope. And Mickey gave him a smile. 

"Lay down with me." Mickey said as he laid down against the pillows, pulling Ian down. "Come on."

Mickey's skin was slick with sweat and heated from the warm climate, but safe and welcoming. Ian snuggled down to lay on his shoulder, taking deep breaths of that smell. Mickey and the ocean, making him relax moment by moment. 

"Thank you." Ian said after a while, when the silence became too much. 

"You don't have to thank me Ian, that's what I'm here for." Mickey said, running his fingers into Ian's hair. "It is getting better though. Less frequent."

"Yeah, that's true. It used to be every time I closed my eyes." Ian closed them, squeezing. "It's been like half a year." 

The constant drag of Mickey's nails against his scalp had his eyes feeling heavy. Slowly putting him to sleep, which was probably why Mickey did it. 

"Stop." Ian mumbled but did nothing to stop it. "I want to talk."

Mickey kept it up, smiling into his hair. "You did talk. Now it's time to sleep, then we figure out the rest."

His heartbeat was calming. A slow, but steady sound. Relaxed. Ian rubbed his face against it, sighing. "I'm so happy we came here. That I came with you."

Mickey smiled again. 

"I would have hated myself if I didn't." 

"Ian…"

"No, I mean it. We've been through so much shit because of me. I'm just happy I managed to do that part right." Ian laced their fingers, letting them rest on Mickey's stomach. "Leaving, coming here with you has been the best thing I've ever done."

"All this time and you're still a sap." Mickey joked because the emotions climbing up his throat would bring tears if he allowed it. "I'm just glad you're here Ian."

This round of tears was silent, unknown to Mickey as they slid down his cheeks. Grateful tears, tears of relief, of salvation and love. Tears of happiness and Ian let them fall, he let himself feel it. 

"I'm supposed to call Mandy tomorrow." Mickey began, keeping his voice steady. "It's a long shot, but maybe she's heard something about where they are."

Ian's eyes opened. His heart pounding. "Why would she know?"

"Because Terry might." Mickey offered. "Mandy moved back home, remember? Means that she could have some shit to tell us that we didn't know last month."

Hope was all he needed. Just a little. Just enough to keep them going. 

Ian sat up, propping up on one elbow to look down at him. Showing him the tears, which Mickey wiped away with his knuckles. "Can we call now?"

Mickey looked up, out the window above their bed to see the sun barely rising. "Chicago is only an hour ahead of us. No way in hell is she going to be awake."

Ian frowned, his body literally slumping into the bed. "Fuck."

Mickey pulled on him until he laid back down against him. "Give it a little bit, then we can call. She won't help if you wake her up."

"She'd do it for me." Ian mumbled, huffing. "No way can I just go back to sleep now."

Within seconds, Mickey's hand was back in his hair, luring him to sleep, as was the other hand rubbing up and down his spine. He couldn't fight it, he was so tired. 

"Yeah, you can." Mickey closed his eyes, resting his head against Ian's. "I love you."

Ian smiled into his chest, already half asleep as he replied. The words sounded heavy, distant. "Love you too, Mick."

**

"Fuck." Ian sighed as he hung up the phone, feeling a little shaky. 

It was late afternoon by the time they woke up and called Mandy. With all the small talk and I miss yous out of the way, Ian took a chance and asked her about Svetlana and Yev. 

Now he was looking at a scrap of paper with a number on it. One that Mandy claimed to be Svetlana's. Or had been a month or so ago. Mandy made no promises but assured him the number was active. 

"Is that it?" Mickey asked as he walked out of the cabana and shut the door behind him. 

"Yeah, I think so." Ian glanced up from the number, out into the water. "She said it's been a month or two but says it's the right one."

Mickey walked up behind him, wrapping both arms around his waist. "Do you want me to call?"

Ian relaxed back, letting Mickey hold his weight. "Probably better than me doing it. She hates me."

"She hates everyone."

"Me most of all." Ian challenged. "She might change her number if I do it."

Mickey snatched the number. "I'll do it then."

Ian walked to the edge of the water as he heard Mickey dialing the number. Holding his breath, he counted each of the waves. Each of the bubbles until he stopped trying to hyperventilate. 

"Lana?" 

With that normal snappy, sarcastic tone, Ian knew Mickey was talking to her. He hated it, but Yev was worth it if they had a chance to be a part of his life again. 

"Calm the fuck down."

Only second into the call and it was not going well. Ian listened, but not really. Mickey was raising his voice, probably due to her yelling in Russian. Yev was mentioned, as was money and Mexico and him. 

His guess was that she wanted to know all of it. Every detail of their life together. Then trying to find a crack to wiggle doubt in and break them like she had in the past. 

"Just think about it bitch or immigration will be on your doorstep this afternoon." Mickey snapped, then ended the call. "I hate her."

"I take it didn't go well." 

"Not really but it's better than I thought it would be." Mickey stepped up beside him, linking their hands. "It'll take some work but it's a start."

Ian leaned over enough to kiss his temple. "Thank you."

Things were never easy for them. Ian didn't expect that to be either but he did get his hopes up and now was the slip. The slip into sadness, into pain or darkness. Leaving him feeling just as empty as he had before. 

"She is gonna call back in an hour or so to tell me what's going on but really she doesn't have a choice."

"Yeah, I heard your threat." Ian said, glancing back towards the water. "She can easily call the cops on us."

Mickey shrugged, walking forward and drug Ian along with him. "Yeah, but she won't. She has more to lose than we do. She's too comfortable with creepy mister Rogers to fuck it up."

Ian laughed for the first time all day and wiggled his hand free so he could wrap his arm around Mickey's shoulders. Bumping into him. "And we can just pick up our shit and leave, right?"

Mickey stopped suddenly. "We could if we needed to, but I don't want to do that shit again. I like it here."

"I like it here too." 

"So no, we both have shit to lose which is why she'll do it." 

As much as he hoped that was true, Ian knew there was a downside. There was always a downside with Svetlana. 

Without wanting to argue about it, Ian let it be for the time. He couldn't make her call and getting upset about it wouldn't help anyone. Instead, he took a look around, noticing immediately that they strayed from the cabana. 

"What are we doing?"

Mickey hid his smile by tonguing the corner of his mouth. "Thought we could have lunch, early dinner maybe. And not inside cuz that place is giving me claustrophobia."

"I agree with all of that, but what's that got to do with us being out here?" Ian motioned to the empty expansion of sand and sea, not seeing anything close to a place to eat. "Most places are in town."

"Well I hate people, so…" Mickey tugged Ian down the sandy hill, stepping over dried seaweed and rocks. "I thought we could do it here."

Here was simply there on the beach.

Ian's heart gave that fast paced beat the moment he saw a blanket spread out on a clean patch of sand. A few pillows had been thrown in each of the corners, keeping the wind from blowing it away. There was a decent sized picnic basket in the center, unable to close from an overflow of whatever Mickey stuff inside, and a small cooler; probably filled with beer, behind it. 

"Fuck." 

Mickey set up a picnic for him. For them. All on his own, because he wanted to. Aside from Ian seeing Mickey's scruffy, smiling face after he escaped prison, this had to be the best thing he'd ever seen.

"Kinda cheesy, I know." Mickey grumbled, thumbing his nose. "But I'm okay with cheesy and it's not like I lit a fuckin candle or anything."

As Mickey continued to rant, Ian stared at him like he'd never seen him before. Or hadn't seen that side of him often, the sweet, romantic side. 

"And none of that soccer mom wine shit either. I draw the line at that."

Without uttering a single word, Ian gripped Mickey by the back of his neck and pulled him to his mouth. Not kissing him, not yet but pushing their heads together until their eyes locked. 

"I love you, so fucking much." Ian felt the blush on Mickey's cheeks, a soft heat against his palms. "This is just…"

"Gay?" Mickey retorted sharply. 

"No, it's wonderful." Ian smiled. "But also gay cuz we are. But the good kinda gay."

Mickey snorted. "Is there a bad kinda gay then?"

Ian sighed, chucking a little. "You're missing the point asshole. I'm saying thank you."

The sharp tone disappeared, leaving Mickey feeling a little docile, vulnerable. "I didn't do it for a thank you."

Ian kissed him then, simply letting their lips press together for what seemed like ages, then pulled back, rubbing his thumb across them. "I know why you did it Mick."

"Good, then I don't have to say it and make this even more gay than it already is." 

Ian waited until that playful look sparkled in Mickey's eyes before he let him go. Once again being led by the hand until they stood on the edges of the blanket. "I guess this is better than watching the stars, hmm?"

Mickey rolled his eyes, clearly remembering his less than romantic tone from all those years ago. "Keep it up Gallagher and I won't share."

Ian kicked off his sandals and sat down, yanking Mickey down by his belt until he planted his ass between his legs. Smiling when Mickey leaned back against him, tattooed hands rubbing up his shins.

"Yeah, you will." Ian whispered into his ear before he kissed it, squeezing tightly. "You always do it for me."


End file.
